Escape from TUOYAWON

The early morning sun was making its presence known in the small, darkened motel room. Sabre-like shafts of light thrust through every door and curtain seam.

Chrissy’s slender form emerged slowly from the pitch of night. A rigid silhouette, her fists clenched the bedsheets, which were stretched tight from her toes to her chin. Only her face was visible above the mummy-like form that lay motionless in the centre of the bed. Her eyes were open wide as she stared blankly into space, with her brows furrowed in bewilderment. Although physically motionless, her mind was whirring with a dizzying spin of activity.

She had spent the entire night streaming back over what the last weeks had brought into her life, how her fairytale life had turned into a nightmarish existence.

She flashed back through each event like the fast rewind switch was stuck on a horror movie. All the images and thoughts raced back to where it all began, causing her to relive the traumatic event that had started the downward spiral of her life.

Just the week before, she had been sitting in her car on the side of the street. From that vantage point, only four houses away from Ryan’s place, she watched.

What she saw that morning evoked questions and fear. The sight of those oversized human forms physically, and forcefully removing Ryan from his home.

That scene was bad enough, but worse was the sight of them being followed by another bevy of monster-sized male forms carrying file boxes.

That was the true catalyst for her concern. Those file boxes where full of documents on Ryan’s business dealings. The business dealings that Chrissy was the accountant of record for. Questionable business dealings for which, only that morning, she had been heading to his house to ask him about.

Chrissy had graduated at the top of her class just five years earlier and had already secured some prestigious accounts, but to have her wagon hitched to what she thought was a rapidly rising star like Ryan was impressive. His financial investment company was growing by leaps and bounds, and she felt honored to have been selected as their accountant. Having done his books for the past three years, she had only that day realized how naïve she had been. Her personal feelings for Ryan had blinded her to what was going on right in front of her on every page. Not only that, there was a further realization. Because Ryan was well aware of her feelings for him, his cunning, manipulative nature told him that he could count on those feelings—and her blind faith.

Her traumatic reasoning when seeing that extraction scene was that she was as guilty of fraud as he was—assuming that was why the monster-sized human forms were there. Considering the last few days’ discoveries, what else could it be?

Only in those past few days, while doing his company’s books, had she come to realize that some of his dealings seemed very questionable. Chrissy recognized that there was a pattern emerging, a pattern that caused her great concern because she had not identified it earlier.

It was just that morning that she had planned to confront him and question his business motives, but she had stopped short within view of Ryan’s home when she saw a large black SUV in the driveway and another askew on the front lawn. If she had not been delayed by a call from an old friend that morning, she would have been in the thick of the roundup.

Only in the past few months had Chrissy come to realize that money and success meant more to Ryan than anything or anyone. Well, with the possible exception of his ego.

Being the centre of attention and the hero of any situation were top priorities for him. He had a cunning knack for twisting any story or situation to make himself right and look good. There were times she came to recognize that were outright lies which made him the hero.

At first, she considered it to be just bragging. Only as time went on did her eyes finally open to the fact that he actually believed what he was saying. In his mind, the tales he was weaving were true. Only when the mire became too deep for her to explain away did she start to look at their personal relationship, and where she stood in it. What part of his life did she fit into? He had always seemed to consider her and her existence. As time passed, however, it became clear that every person in his life was there for his benefit alone.

She felt that he had elevated his ability to manipulate to an art form. That was why, when she uncovered some of the investment moves he made as a financial advisor, red flags went up—not just due to those moves, but also because as the company’s accountant, she had a relationship to those moves.

As innocent as she felt she was, her naïve actions were highly unprofessional for an accountant. She could not see any logical excuses for which the courts would have reason to show mercy on her.

Her decision to go on the run that day was, in her mind, her only option. It was that harried decision that led her to the little motel room. The little room in which she was seemingly trapped, with horrifying feelings of being totally lost, desperately alone, and with no apparent escape from the rabbit hole she had found herself in.

And not before a whole new and added slew of disturbing encounters that only instilled an even deeper fear of her future fate.

In Chrissy’s rush to leave what she thought of as a crime scene, she did not take time to consider her direction. She did not even think about contacting her parents to inform them of her intent to take a sudden “holiday.” The only thing she did think to do was stop by her apartment to pick up some clothes. However, she quickly ruled that out for fear that the same superhuman-type forms were waiting there for her.

As she drove aimlessly, she was flooded with thoughts of her relationship with Ryan—both professional and personal—and how her schoolgirl crush had turned into a pre-mid-life crash.

She recalled some gentle comments and nonverbal reactions from her friends. That wonderful group of friends she had known since early childhood at the lake.

Ever since Ryan came onto the scene, any conversation with him in it, often became somber. Even if there had been laughter and excitement, when his name came up, the room became eerily silent.

She recalled how she had dismissed subtle suggestions from those friends as possible jealousy. If only she had listened and accepted those gentle hints from great friends. If she had, then she may not be where she had ended up.

Ryan had always had that gift of the gab. He was also very smart and a quick learner. When his investment business took a rapid financial climb, Chrissy attributed it to his knowledge of the industry.

It was clear that he had an uncanny ability to read a person’s character. That ability gave him an advantage in dealing with people, enabling him to secure them as clients. But, to continue making the profits he was making required a supreme awareness of the financial institution. Maybe he was not as smart as she had led herself to believe. Maybe all that talk of his accomplishments was much more grandiose than if the truth were known.

It was like the summer her dad had hired Ryan to help with a project. Brad, Chrissy’s brother, was away at the time, so her father had hired Ryan to help him construct a new garden shed at home. Ryan had impressed Chrissy’s father with his stories of great construction feats. Her gentle father’s only comment upon completion of the project was, “At least he knew which end of the hammer to hit the nail with.”

Then there was the time he convinced her lake friends that he had won so many awards for his waterskiing ability. Yet, every time they offered to take him out on the lake, he made an excuse and bowed out.

At one of the cottage group gatherings, Bobby made a comment that drew silence instead of the intended laughter. He had said that Ryan wanted to be the bride at every wedding, and the corpse at every funeral. All eyes trained on Chrissy for her reaction as Bobby puckered his lips with an expression that said, “Oops! That was my ‘out loud’ voice.”

All those times boasting about his accomplishments seemed so very believable to Chrissy. It finally became clear to her that none of her friends bought into Ryan’s claims. That was what they were gently attempting to have her focus directed to.

The part that was the hardest to grasp was that, for Chrissy, at least, his stories seemed so believable. That is how convincing he was. It finally became clear to her that, true or not, Ryan believed his own tales to be the truth.

It became overwhelmingly clear that he had a grandiose sense of self-importance.

Chrissy recalled her impression of him from their first meeting on that first day. Her mom and dad had hosted a “welcome to the community” barbeque for Ryan and his parents. It was her family’s first day back from their annual three-week summer getaway at the cottage. While helping to unpack the car, she noticed an unfamiliar person sitting on the neighbor’s front steps. She wondered at the time who that cute guy was sitting there. Later that day, she discovered that while she and her family were away at their lake retreat, he and his parents had moved into the house next door.

At the welcome to the neighborhood barbeque Chrissy’s parents put on that same day, she had put Ryan’s character down to being full of himself. Considering that initial assessment, she wondered how she had become so blind to who he really was, and why it had taken such a traumatic experience to finally pry her eyes wide open. Her personality assessment at that time could be excused as a thirteen-year old’s naivety.

She had finally allowed herself to become conscious of the ugly facts. Not only did Ryan have a grandiose sense of self-importance, he was preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success and power.

“There is no question that he exploited me,” Chrissy muttered aloud. “And he seems to feel it’s his right to play people.”

Now, the question was what to do about it and how to move forward. How could she explain to all the people in this little town the part she may have played in their own personal life-altering dilemmas?

Her questioning thoughts rushed forward as she lay motionless, confused, and paralyzed by the reality of her situation.

Her rising consciousness brought her focus to where she lay. The small unit three room with the neutral beige walls, the heavy, dark stained dresser and nightstands.

And that three-light fan fixture that she talked to every night, set against the cream-coloured swirled plaster ceiling.

Her spoken words crack as they left her lips. “Will I ever go home again?” she asked in a sad, soft questioning tone, as if in a prayer to an all-knowing entity.

Was landing in this town an accident, or had it been predestined? It appeared to be the very town that Ryan had visited with his financial get-rich-quick seminar.

It was looking like all, or most of the people she had met so far had been participants in his investment scheme.

However, it did appear that they were unaware of her relationship with Ryan. And at this point, there did not seem to be knowledge of her having any connection to that program they bought into.

As far as Chrissy knew, to them, she was an innocent party who had had an unfortunate accident while driving through on her way to her aunt’s home, and she had been rescued in the middle of the night by the town’s local Reverend Sounders.

The past week for Chrissy had been a very confusing and stressful experience.

How this whole episode started with the extraction of Ryan and those file boxes, a scene scorched into her memory. Ryan’s feet barely touched the ground as those massive men in black suits each gripped one of his arms, which were cuffed together behind his back. His head swung left and right as he stared up at each of them in sheer questioning terror.

Then, the coyote episode with the resulting action of her totally losing control of her car.

Her middle-of-the night rescue by the total stranger and so-called Reverend Sounders from that marshy roadside accident scene. That was followed by days spent waiting for the car to be repaired as a result of her ride through the mud flats.

The trapped feeling she experienced while stranded in that wait.

Her physical transformation from athletic blonde with neat preppy clothes, to a raven-haired something in frumpy attire. It was an attempt to hide, if only from herself.

Then, in that waiting period, she reflected on her encounters with the inhabitants of this small town, their life-altering investment experiences, and her recognition that she may be a part of their financial misfortune.

Her mind went to the backpack full of money. Chrissy was aware of some money, but why did Ryan have so much cash hidden in her car’s trunk?

If all that was not enough stress in her life, it appeared that no matter which road she took to move on from this area, they all seemed to lead right back to the same place she started from.

Chrissy was starting to wonder if she would be stuck in this nightmare for the rest of her life.

The sun was now at its peak when Chrissy heard a faint rustling in the unit next door. The sound was followed by muffled voices, both male and female, though she could not make out the words, nor did she know who was speaking.

Her first thought was that law enforcement agents were looking for her and had picked the wrong room.

Paranoia aside, it was more than likely the motel owner, Mrs. Wallace, and her son, Kenny, preparing the room for new occupants.

Thinking it was best to get out of bed and face the fact that serious decisions needed to be made, she forcefully threw the bedsheets toward her feet with a screech of frustration. Then, motionless, she lay in the middle of the bed for a few more seconds, as she pondered her defensive strategy.

If she went to the diner, what would she say to people? Who would be there? Then she thought about Liz, the waitress she had befriended at the diner. How could Chrissy explain that she may be a part of Liz and the other investor’s current financial woes?

Those thoughts buzzed in her head as she thought that if she had seen—or allowed herself to admit—what Ryan was up to earlier, all these people would be living a much different life.

Mathew and Angela might have gotten married and even had a family!

Liz might be relaxing on a sunny beach somewhere enjoying her retirement!

Hazel and Norm might have gotten the new roof that they needed on the store!

And so on and so on.

Now I am here, the damage is done, and now the question is, how do I move on from this? How do I find a way to ease my conscience by coming clean? I have never been able to live with a lie. Chrissy’s thoughts continued to whir in her head in quick successions.

“Get up,” she blurted aloud.

Her thoughts for her next move were to get to the diner and think all her future moves through. Maybe she would also talk to Liz, not about the full details of her relationship with this investment thing, but just at least test the waters.

As Chrissy opened her motel room door, she felt an uneasiness. It was the kind of feeling a person might have, knowing you had a visible seam unravelling in your clothes, or a facial blemish and had to be exposed to the world. But still, she felt she must move forward and attempt to clear her mind of all the pressure she had now found herself under.

On her walk to the diner, Chrissy cast discreet looks at passersby, wondering if they, as well, were involved in Ryan’s investment scheme. As they came close, she would look away, wondering about their possible involvement.

Her current situation had now found her obsessed with knowing who another victim might be.

She even found herself fighting a lengthy stare at each person she passed.

She knew how awkward a caught stare could be.

There were times in her younger years that she had found herself staring at a man’s huge moustache or how beautiful a lady looked. Even though the stares were of admiration, when the subjects of her transfixion noticed her stare, she felt like she had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. That awkward feeling was made even worse when she would quickly look away, and always turn her head down and to the side as if she were looking at the grass growing, even if there was no sod for blocks.

Chrissy was just one building away from the diner when the front screen door flung open and a body emerged.

It was Reverend Sounders.

She slowed and watched as he stopped just outside the door and raised his arms to don a satin black fedora. On one side it had two small bright blue feathers, peeking above a black silk band.